


Breaking Light

by Genuinelies



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: LionTrust, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:32:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khadgar and Anduin Lothar have parted ways after the fall of the guardian Medivh. Restless and heartbroken from the loss of his son, Anduin spends his time on petty missions, seeking distraction, while the mage has returned to Karazhan to pick up the pieces left from his mentor's death and the demon's defeat. </p><p>However, all is not well at Karazhan, and the two men will once again need each other's strength to carry them through the darkness into the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Light

Anduin Lothar paced the turrets, relishing the feel of the sun on his face. It felt clean, refreshing. He wished it would do more than beat down on his skin. He wished it could penetrate his body and cleanse his soul of the worry and doubt that he’d been plagued with for months, ever since that blasted mage had skulked into his barracks and released that portentous spray of green magic into the air. The corrupting Fel. It made him sick even to name it in his own mind, knowing that he had suffered so much loss only to scrape a standstill out of it, not a victory. The Alliance had to rebuild their forces, and that would take years, years they surely did not have before the orcs pressed their attack once again.

His only hope lay with Garona. Khadgar had tried to convince him in the days that had followed the battle that had killed King Llane that she had to have had her reasons, and while he was too cynical, too hurt to truly accept it, he knew if he didn’t he would have nothing left. So he clung to what he saw as a lie as best he could, and tried, _tried_ , to believe it. Maybe she would be able to hold off the orc forces long enough for them to have a fighting chance at replenishing the Alliance’s might. It brought him no peace. The shards of doubt had lodged themselves too fully in his heart.

So Stormwind waited for its sons and daughters to age into combat-readiness, while the enemy forces grew stronger and the whole world it seemed was biding its time restlessly.

For Anduin’s part, he was still trying to find meaning in drawing consecutive breaths. The heady purposefulness of the celebration and funeral following the closing of the portal had bolstered him for a few weeks. He had been able to focus his energy on supporting his sister through the loss of her husband, helping to distract him from his own great loss of two dear friends, and his son. But she had her children, and her duty, and Taria had been slowly growing stronger, every bit the queen. Her focus had turned painfully to him, and though she meant well, her attentions only served to spotlight the chasm in his heart.

Patrolling the turrets, scanning the forest and harbor for threats by turns, was the only respite he got.

It would have helped, the most traitorous of voices said quietly in his mind, if the mage hadn’t gone. If his only remaining friend had stayed in the city, as he’d been asked to by the Queen herself. Khadgar had insisted he was needed elsewhere, though, and one morning was simply gone.

Anduin guessed he had gone back to Karazhan. After he had confessed his sob story to Anduin and Garona, it was more than clear the boy – _keep calling him that, for the love of the Light, it’s safer –_ had no home to speak of. And Karazhan – with the power sourced there, the absolute mess they’d left it in was not conscionable. The Kirin Tor had not mentioned taking it, and for as much as he could say he knew the younger man, Khadgar was too responsible to leave it to its fate.

Plus, the books. _The books._ He would have suspected possession if the mage let those be.

An abrupt, sharp worry clenched at his throat. Anduin pushed it down. The boy’s eyes had been clear since the confrontation with the old guardian Medivh. He had no reason to doubt that he had been successful.

And yet. And yet.

Medivh’s eyes had always been clear. Hadn’t they?

Anduin closed his eyes and tilted his chin up, letting the sun warm his eyelids and wishing, again, that it would cleanse his thoughts.

#

Khadgar pressed his back painfully against one of the bookshelves, holding the arcane shield in front of him with a steady hand. He hadn’t quite known what to expect on returning to Karazhan, but it wasn’t the hundreds of horse-sized spiders waiting in the ruins of the land outside the tower. He wasn’t sure if the Fel magic released by Medivh’s defeat had made them grow, and he was honestly not eager to find out. This was the third in so many months to make it inside the halls.

He had been working tirelessly on piecing together a strong enough spell to securely shield Karazhan from the outside, but nothing seemed good enough. His first attempt was something he’d rather forget, and had resulted in weeks of re-shelving dusty tomes. He was still sneezing black soot from that endeavor. He only really had about five of the bookshelves in proper order as it was; the rest of the library was scattered across the marble floor, half of the shelves in pieces, crushed beneath stone rubble from the fight with Medivh.

He felt that he was close, though, to finding the correct words. It was only troublesome that if it wasn’t spiders trying to eat him alive, it was the shades that haunted the rooms, the mirages shimmering at the corner of his gaze every which way he turned, the whispered noises that seemed more like voices in his head than true sound. He had been warned, before, of what dwelled in Karazhan, but when other people were present it was less of a concern. What was real was tangible, and what was not could be ignored. With only himself for company, Khadgar felt that the line between reality and dream was blurred at the most inopportune of times.

Once the wards were up, he could return to civilization without worry that he was leaving the tower open to invasion. He longed to be around people again, even if it was among strangers. He would take as many books as he could and find himself an inn to live in, and study the arcane knowledge there.

It was ironic that he had never craved the company of others, and yet when his freedom had been taken from him by duty, it felt like a need as important as breathing.

Medivh’s last words to him had unsettled him deeply. He had always looked to the guardian for an example of what to strive for, and he had long only had his companion Moroes. It had seemed necessary, to focus on his craft. The Kirin Tor had certainly lauded his lack of attachments. Yet…

 _“Loneliness makes us weak,”_ he had advised Khadgar with his dying breath.

He hissed out a sentence, and blue light reduced the spider to dust. He sighed at the mess. Another arachnid took his place, climbing in through the window.

“Really?” He muttered at spider number four. He breathed out yet another cage of light, and this time his hand did shake. Not from uncertainty, but from exhaustion.

He longed to return to Stormwind, and the clean, friendly bed he’d had at the castle.

He remembered Queen Taria’s plea for him to stay at the castle for her brother’s sake with no small amount of guilt. She was under the impression that he might be able to keep him from drinking himself to death. He didn’t know where she’d gotten the idea, and it was laughable that she thought Khadgar meant so much to the warrior. In his opinion, he was just another of Anduin Lothar’s troops. He cared for him as he cared for all the men and women in his command.

The Lion of Azeroth was beloved by all people. Everywhere he turned he had a friend.

His heart twisted. And who was he, Khadgar? What use did anyone have for a guardian as a friend, outside of his usefulness?

He shook that melancholy, inopportune thought from his mind and focused on his current problem.

Then took a step back. The spider lay on the ground with its legs in the air, twitching its last death throes. Its exoskeleton was transparent, jiggling with its last movements, somehow made soft in the moments Khadgar wasn’t paying attention. Khadgar could not remember killing it. He took a cautious step forward, then several steps back, running into the bookcase and knocking several tomes on his head.

_Was he not alone? Had they failed? Was Medivh still alive, haunting the shadows?_

He had buried him, he told himself. He had seen Medivh put under earth, with all the magic he could find to make sure he stayed at rest.

 _But you’re still learning, aren’t you,_ he thought anxiously. The spells he had uttered had been learned from books kept at Karazhan itself, that first month. He had not practiced them.

The spider in front of him had been drained of its life using the Fel. There was no mistaking it.

“Sh-show yourself!” Khadgar cried out. His voice echoed through the empty halls and bounced back to him.

Deep down, though, he knew he was going to get no response.

“No,” he breathed.

“Medivh! Show yourself!” He yelled out again.

But he was staring at his own hands.

_You know what this is._

He had thought he had felt it, before, but after using the font to replenish himself he had felt better. Whole. Himself.

His hands shaking for a whole new reason, he crept toward the shriveled body of the arachnid and released the Fel from it, cleansing it before it could truly be free.

Other people, it seemed, would only be visited in his dreams.

He was determined to be stronger than Medivh, in the end. He would let no demon into his body.

It was just too bad that that determination did not guarantee success, and Khadgar was not fool enough to pretend that it did.

In the meantime, despite Medivh’s final words of caution about isolation, he was at least going to make sure he would not be able to extend his power outside of the tower. Not to another living being. Not to any gateway. He would purify himself, by himself, no matter how long that took. The storerooms were full.

He would survive. He would keep Azeroth safe.

From his own power.

Khadgar closed his eyes briefly, bolstering his confidence, before sliding back down to the floor, where the open books and pen were left waiting.

The protection spell he was seeking would not only to keep the world out.

It would also serve to keep him in.

#

“Brother, where is that mage of ours? Where is Khadgar?” Queen Taria let herself into his chambers just as Anduin finished strapping on his last pauldron, cinching it securely.

He looked up at her from beneath the fall of his hair, pretending that his leg plates needed adjusting, which of course they didn’t.

“I am busy here, you know, what with the murloc attacks outside of Goldshire.”

“You should be letting the younger troops handle those,” she replied reproachfully. “Don’t avoid my question. I worry about him.”

“About me, you mean,” he muttered.

“Yes. But about him, too.”

“That boy,” he grunted, standing up. “Did not need us before. We were lucky to have his help at all. Do not ever tell him I said that, if he ever shows his face back here in Stormwind.”

Taria smiled at him. “Why do you call him that?”

“It’s less of a mouthful than idiot bookworm spell-chucker.”

She laughed with him a moment. “You’re too hard on him. He only admires you. You could see it when he handed you my husband’s sword.”

“Are you blaming me for his absence?” He asked incredulously.

“Of course not!”

“I tried to get Medivh out of that tower for six years, and-“

“And look what happened.”

Anduin flinched. “Khadgar is not Medivh. He’s stronger.”

“Maybe. Maybe in the use of magic,” she suggested. Taria stepped forward and cupped his cheek. “We have each other, brother, but two can be a very lonely number when each of has our own responsibilities outside of family. It was okay, before, when you had Callan, but you’ve never loved living alone.”

“Okay.” Anduin threw up his hands, took a couple calming paces, and then whirled to face her. “You started this with ‘where is Khadgar,’ and now you’re telling me to take a new wife? What has happened that has caused you to doubt me?”

“Doubt you?” Taria repeated incredulously.

“I am fine on my own. Do you want me to tell you to take a new husband?”

“You know I can’t do that,” she said softly. “But I wouldn’t need you to tell me. Not in the future, after more time has passed.”

That settled heavily on his heart. He stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was not fair.”

She only looked back at him earnestly. “In the meantime, it would not hurt for you to find a friend. We have both lost so many.”

“And you still think I have this friend in our new guardian, after so much time?”

“Yes.” She smiled at him. “Now go kill what you have to take your mind off things.”

One of the best things about his sister, he mused, was that she understood him.

Of course, it could also be one of the worst.

#

Killing murlocs turned out to be every bit as annoying and petty as he’d remembered it being from his days training to be a soldier. Having one gurgling pest after another coming after him and misjudging him was perfect for keeping his mind occupied on irritation rather than memory.

To his grim delight, a patrol mission followed, sending them out to the Redridge Mountains. After that, it was down through the Swamp of Sorrows (never his favorite place, it was worth mentioning) to the Blasted Lands to fend off an orc attack. Isolated, thankfully.

Weeks had passed by that point, and even Anduin was beginning to get tired of the ceaseless fighting and dirt beneath his nails. It was with some relief when he spotted the gryphon descending at them from the sky. The beast killed the last orc in front of him, and he untied a missive with his sister’s seal from its saddle.

He opened it, praying that nothing had happened in his very selfish absence.

_Dearest Lothar,_

_There have been strange reports of a blue glow going up around Karazhan._

“What has that mage done?” Anduin grumbled aloud.

The letter continued:

_I know that you are currently in the Blasted Lands. It is fortuitous that a stop by the tower would be convenient on your way back to Stormwind. It is not that I do not trust our new guardian. The light is not what you described to me of the Fel. It is not green. But after what happened to Medivh, we should be sure to not leave him alone. I fear it has already been too long._

_If everything is all right, please send word. A visit will be good for you, either way._

_My love,_

_Taria_

It was followed by her official titles and royal seal.

“Better leave nothing to the imagination,” he agreed under his breath. He felt his heart quicken. He wished he could write it off as just fear over the last time he’d been to that cursed place. He knew himself too well to believe it. Seeing Khadgar again would be welcome.

“We’re moving out,” he told his relieved troops. “Just one stop to make on the way back. You’ll be seeing quite a sight.”

#

It didn’t take long at all for the Alliance retinue to cross the border into the Pass, but they had seen the strange glow in the sky long before they reached it. Though Taria had been right and the shield – for that’s what he recognized it to be – was a clear blue, it unsettled him deeply.

They were almost to the gates when the first spiders attacked, if you could really call the beasts, which stood higher than his head, spiders.

“These are new,” he muttered, and hoped desperately that this was a simple reason for sealing off Karazhan.

He hopped off his gryphon. “Stay here. Guard the doors.” He gave them all a shit-eating grin. “Days off for everyone when we get back to the city, if we can spare them. I know this isn’t your idea of a nice day out.”

There was a chorus of “Yes, sir!” Anduin walked cautiously up to the doors, stopping just shy of the magical shield.

For a moment, the crackling energy was too much of a reminder of another day, one that held his son’s death. He closed his eyes to compose himself, then opened them again to scream, “Khadgar! Take this blasted thing down! You have visitors!”

He hadn’t expected a response. There really wasn’t anything that was more clear of a _“stay out!”_ than a barrier of this magnitude.

Nevertheless, a response did come. Anduin blinked at the warmth he felt at hearing that familiar voice.

“Lothar?”

“I’ve been sent by my sister to find out what this glow is doing around your tower.”

There was a moment of silence. “Of course. You can tell her that Medivh’s death released too much energy here for it to be safe to outsiders. I know you already met the spiders.”

“You were watching us approach.”

“Of course.”

“I was a friend of Medivh’s,” Anduin said, frowning. Khadgar had been eager to please him, in the past. It was what had made the other man so easy to tease. “Or did you forget? I know what weirdness lies in there. Come, now. Take down this shield. My troops and I would like a drink, and a respite from these Light-forsaken bugs.”

“Ah,” came Khadgar’s voice.

Except there was a note there, a new one he had never heard before in Khadgar. It was too… _knowing?_

He didn’t have time to think on it. The shield came down, and relieved, Anduin called his troops inside Karazhan.

#

“Welcome, I suppose,” Khadgar said by way of greeting, standing back on the first steps of the spiral staircase. He had made a lot of progress in his work, or at least the menial tasks that had lain before him the last time Anduin had been there. A few bookshelves still lay broken, their contents strewn about, spines bent and pages scattered, but the rest were in some semblance of order.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Anduin said dryly.

“You can see everything is in order,” Khadgar said, a bit too hastily for the warrior’s comfort. “You can tell your sister of the progress I have made. I have been researching ways to contain the Fel. It is slow going, but with no distractions I should be able to work through these tomes.”

“What, all of them?” Anduin couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.

Khadgar just gave him an amused smile, lips twitching beneath his ghost of a mustache.

He had conjured a refreshment table, and Anduin gave his soldiers leave to take food and drink.

Finally, the smirk got to him. “Come on, Khadgar. Is this really how you greet a friend?” He stepped forward to pull him into a hug of greeting.

Khadgar took two backward steps up the staircase, away from him.

Had that been… _fear_ on his face?

Anduin blinked at him, wide-eyed and bemused. “A few months, and I no longer count as a friend?”

“You do,” Khadgar said hurriedly. “It’s just that…” He wished, not for the first time, that the mage’s face was easier to read. His large eyes gave the impression of an open book, but that was a complete lie, Anduin had found. “You’re covered in so much orc blood.”

“Prissy, are we? I should have known, bookworm,” Anduin teased, to cover his alarm. “Show us to the baths, then, so my men and women and I can meet your standards.”

“You should leave.”

“This place is more than big enough to house my troops,” Anduin frowned.

“Yes. But it’s not…I don’t want company.”

“What?” He was openly slack-jawed. He looked Khadgar up and down, carefully.

It was then he noticed the shaking in the man’s fingers, the dark circles under his eyes. “Khadgar,” he said slowly, “What is this place doing to you?”

“It’s not the tower,” he hissed.

“Then what –“

“Go back to Stormwind.”

“If we do, will you come with us? Taria would like to see you.”

“Oh,” Khadgar said, strangely. A smile twisted his lips. “I’ll make my way to Stormwind. I promise.”

It unsettled him more than if the other man had argued. It left him nothing to pick up on, though, nothing to debate.

His sister was right though, he realized. Khadgar needed someone with him.

Azeroth could not lose another guardian, even a guardian-in-training.

 _I cannot lose another friend,_ the words surfaced unbidden. _Not so soon._

“Karazhan is unsafe for guests without aptitude in the arcane,” Khadgar continued.

“Very well,” Anduin said slowly. “If you don’t come before the week is out, expect me back.” He ordered his troops to leave the tower.

The door slammed shut in front of them. Anduin whirled, amidst the clank of armor as the soldiers drew their weapons.

Anduin’s stomach clenched around his lunch in sudden nausea.

“A moment too late,” Khadgar grinned, his smile bigger than Anduin had ever seen it.

Within each dark, familiar brown orb, a green light flickered.

#

Khadgar felt the moment the Fel took over.

 _Loneliness, loneliness, loneliness is weakness,_ his thoughts screamed at him.

It wasn’t always, though. Sometimes weakness was seeing an old friend, and realizing you wanted things that would never happen. Sometimes weakness was wanting them to stay with you, even if it would bring them to ruin. Sometimes weakness was doubting your choices, doubting your abilities, in the face of others’ skepticism.

As long as he could pretend that nothing was wrong, that he was more powerful than the evil housed within him, he had been able to keep it at bay.

Anduin’s careful, worried look had torn all of that falsehood down around him in mere minutes.

 _He was not fine._ He could see it in the man’s face. He didn’t trust him. _He didn’t deserve to be trusted. He was lying to them all, just as Medivh had._

But he had been alone for so long. And seeing Anduin obey his orders so easily as he cast him out made him realize that it was easy to say loneliness was weakness, but not so easy to remedy the situation.

Through that chink in his self-confidence, the demon slipped inside, pushing it wider.

 _I have never before been aware of you taking over my mind,_ he told it.

It laughed at him, then, and his conscious thought went away.

#

Just as soon as he’d seen it, the Fel light extinguished as Anduin watched. “Khadgar?” He questioned hurriedly. “Open the door and put up your wards. Let my men out.”

“It was so very foolish of you to return. I can feel how much he liked you.”

Anduin searched the demon’s eyes for any traces of the young mage. The most unsettling thing was, he found Khadgar there. He could not tell the difference between him and whatever this being was, not in that moment. There was no fleck of green, no all-consuming black, only large brown eyes. The only difference he could see was that the amusement twisting his lips was cruel, something he never would have seen on the younger man’s face were he whole.

“You think you knew that,” the demon mused. “But that is not the way he means it.”

Anduin couldn’t stop the shock from showing on his features. He shut it down as quickly as he could, but the damage was done. The demon laughed.

“Keeping you here. It would make him happy, but not in the way that I have planned.” His lips pulled back from his pointed teeth. He pointed a finger, still manicured and soft, Khadgar’s own, and erected a glowing green cage. With another careless gesture and stream of grating words, the six Alliance troops were thrown inside. The bars closed around them. Anduin made to help them and was thrown into a wall for his efforts.

“I have hungered, locked inside this prison. He is smart, this young mortal. Smarter than the last. Instead of trying to cage me, that one sought to defeat me in his arrogance. I cannot be defeated. See me and feel no hope. Observe my power!”

The demon cast restraints around Anduin, binding him in place. He struggled against the green magic to no avail.

The demon turned toward the cage. Toward Anduin’s people.

“No – Khadgar, please. Don’t. You won’t be able to live with yourself, when you come to your senses.”

The demon laughed. “You are so sure he’s more powerful than I am? Foolish mortal.”

He consumed the first soul. Anduin’s soldier screamed as her life force was sucked from her, white streams of pure light changing hands.

“His horror is driving him farther inwards,” the demon said in satisfied tones. He closed off the cage.

Anduin saw one of the soldiers start forward. Knowing the provocation, no matter how brave, would only lead to death, he waved him down surreptitiously with one hand. The soldier saw in time and slumped against the bars.

“He won’t remember this, of course, when I let him out.”

“Why would you let him out?” Anduin asked, his teeth clenched.

The demon smiled. It was cruel and unfamiliar on Khadgar’s kind features. “It is fun to watch him realize what has happed in his absence.”

The words sent revulsion shuddering through his soul.

“Shall we have some fun?” The demon laughed.

Anduin watched in horror as Khadgar blinked, and brought a hand to his head as if in pain.

“Khadgar? Khadgar. Look at me. Not towards the east wing. Look at me! Remove these, quickly!”

Khadgar, however, took one look at him, and immediately spun away, taking in the rest of the room exactly as he had told him not to. “I’m sorry!” He choked, and gasped out a spell. Anduin fell to the floor, free.

Facing away from him, Khadgar made a noise as if he were about to vomit. He raised a hand toward where the remaining soldiers were kept. A stream of steady words came, followed by a blue disk forming in the air in front of him.

“Open the door, quickly, now!” Anduin begged. He ran to help the mage.

A burst of green light stopped him. Khadgar whipped around, and once again Anduin found himself anchored to the wall by the Fel.

“Damn it!” He screamed. “Khadgar! Fight this!”

The chuckle was in Khadgar’s voice, but the demon had once again taken over. “Every time he sees what he is capable of, he belongs more to me. Every time you see what he is capable of, I will make sure he knows. You could not have brought me a better gift, weakling.”

“He will defeat you,” Anduin spat.

“I think not.”

The demon stretched his fingers outward, and consumed another soul.

Anduin felt tears on his cheeks, and was not ashamed.

He did not weep for himself.

#

The second time Khadgar came to, he did not bother to stop to see what he’d done, or to bother with freeing any of the remaining soldiers. Instead, he gasped out the spell to dissolve Anduin’s bindings and grabbed a heavy wrought-iron bookend from one of the shelves, all in one fluid motion. Realizing what he meant to do, Anduin lunged for him, only just barely stopping the mage from hitting himself with the heavy metal object. Khadgar struggled against him. “If I’m unconscious, it can do no harm,” he gasped. “Please, do it-” he pressed the bookend into Anduin’s hand, but before he had a good grip on it, he was thrown back. It clanged against the marble floor.

The demon threw its head back and laughed, its eyes glowing sickly green.

“Smart child, for a pathetic mortal,” the demon commented.

“What’s happening?” One of the remaining guards stuttered out.

“Khadgar has-“ The words were ashes on his tongue. “The Fel is infecting him.” He met the demon’s lurid stare warningly. “He’s fighting it.”

The demon took a long stride forward and gripped Anduin’s neck. He choked, but it was clear it wasn’t trying to kill him. It smirked, and lifted him so only the toes of his boots scraped against the floor.

“He’s not strong enough to hold you up,” the demon said. “Let us see what happens when he wakes.”

It dragged Anduin, kicking against the mage’s possessed body, over to one of the windows, and pushed him until he was bent backwards over the courtyard. The entrance to the tower had stairs, and as a result the main floor was high enough up for a fall to be dangerous.

“This time,” the demon said, “He will beg me to retake him.”

The way the demon kept capturing Khadgar’s mind and releasing it reminded Anduin of nothing so much as a particularly nasty cat with a mouse. It would be easier if he could hate the face in front of him, but the green eyes and sour smile were embedded in a friend’s features. Anduin hit uselessly at Khadgar’s hands, but his fingers were unnaturally strong, infused with the power of the Fel.

Then Khadgar blinked, his eyes normal and dark, and his grip slackened. He was simply not strong enough to bear Anduin’s weight, encased as he was in his armor. Anduin wasn’t even certain the bookworm could hold him up without the extra burden. His strength was in his mind, not his muscles. Anduin scrabbled against the outside wall of the tower as he felt himself slide backward, unable to find purchase.

Abject horror overtook Khadgar’s face for the barest of moments before his eyes glowed green again. The demon caught Anduin’s foot carelessly, hauling him up and throwing him back inside the room. He skidded painfully across the floor and struggled to his feet, panting.

The demon looked at him, baring his pointed teeth, and chuckled in triumph.

When Anduin lunged for it, it flicked one finger and once again he was bound with Fel restraints.

“I’ll kill you!” He screamed at it.

“I don’t think so,” the demon purred, and consumed another soul from the cage.

#

When Khadgar came to for the third time, he again wasted no time observing what horrors he might have done. He released Anduin and pulled open a portal in the same motion. Within it Anduin could see the top of the tower shimmering.

“The font,” he gasped, and disappeared.

Without hesitation, Anduin began his long ascent up the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

#

Anduin reached the top of the steps after far too long, out of breath and gasping for air. He didn’t pause in his way to the font, searching the room anxiously for any sign of Khadgar, or the demon.

A dark form was bent over something on the floor, almost appearing to be made of smoke.

“Get away from him!” He snarled, lurching forward.

A slender white hand rose from the darkness, stopping him. “Do not come closer.”

“What are you doing to him? Who are you?”

“His protective wards kept me at bay. It was almost too late.”

Anduin swallowed back his questions and paced like a lion around the circumference of the pool, until he could see Khadgar’s prone form, splayed and slack-jawed. “Who are you?” He repeated.

“I am Alodi.” He saw the barest reflection of a woman’s face in the arcane flow. The mass of darkness shifted, and released a noise like sighing. “It is done.”

“What does that mean to me?” He demanded.

“I am a former protector of this world,” she said. “He will continue getting stronger, as his powers develop. I will not be able to return to him, but he will not have need of me. His guilt over killing the guardian was the only reason the demon was successful in its attempt.”

Anduin felt sick. He had left Khadgar here alone, not thinking of anything but his own losses. Not realizing that for a guardian to kill another guardian, there might be unseen consequences. The Alliance saw Khadgar as a hero, but how did he view himself? Anduin had not thought to ask.

“Is he…is he cleansed? Does the Fel still reside in him?” And how could he trust this woman’s words, whatever her answer might be? What if she were just another demon, cunning and deceptive?

But it wasn’t the feeling he got in her presence. She unsettled him, but why would she have not attacked him, if she meant harm?

Khadgar stirred on the ground. He blinked open his eyes.

“He is cleansed,” she said, and disappeared.

“Alodi?” Khadgar coughed out.

“Khadgar?” Anduin questioned uncertainly.

Khadgar looked up at him, then swiftly away. His cheeks were flushed.

“I don’t blame you,” Anduin said quickly. “Look at me.” He knelt beside the pool, and reached his hand out.

Khadgar ignored it in favor of pushing himself unsteadily to his feet.

“Did you know that woman?”

“She told me of Medivh,” Khadgar said lowly. “She was the reason Azeroth did not fall.”

“You are the reason Azeroth did not fall,” Anduin bit out sharply.

Without looking at him, Khadgar drew up a portal of blue light with sure movements, a contrast to his trembling frame.

“Khadgar-” Anduin started, not even sure where to begin speaking.

“Come. Watch me. Make sure I-” Khadgar still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Frowning, his own gaze intense on the other man’s drawn face, he stepped into the light.

They arrived, stumbling, on the first floor. The remaining three troops, pressed together in the center of the green Fel cage, startled to their feet, their weapons held bravely in hand.

“What have you done to our commander?” One called out.

“Sir, are you all right?” Another asked in a shaking voice.

“Stand down,” Anduin commanded. “It will be all right. He’s…” Anduin glanced at the man beside him, white-lipped and breathing out word after word of power. His eyes began to fill with light. “…himself,” he finished.

“How?” One of the soldiers asked, their voice breaking.

“Be quiet. Don’t break his concentration.” Anduin hissed. “I’ll explain later.”

Blue lines traced themselves in the air, and a burst of power enveloped the cage. The Fel evaporated, leaving no trace behind. Khadgar stumbled, then fell to his knees, puking. He waved Anduin off, and when he was persistent, Khadgar shoved him away. Another burst of light emitted from his palms, even as he recovered himself, wiping his mouth on his robes. The door to Karazhan burst open.

“Leave,” he gasped. “Please.”

Anduin grabbed him by the cloth at the back of his neck. He hauled him to his feet. “You’re coming with us, spell-chucker.”

Khadgar’s brown eyes met his in shock, before he quickly turned his head. To Anduin’s horror, the mage didn’t protest. He slumped against him. Anduin got an arm under his shoulders, supporting him.

“Move out!” He commanded.

The soldiers didn’t need to be told twice. They made to grab what remained of their fallen comrades.

“Don’t touch them!” Khadgar bit out.

They jerked away from the bodies. “But,” one started.

“Leave them,” Anduin sighed, his heart heavy. He jerked his chin toward the door, and they filed out.

Khadgar’s breath rasped in his ears. It was the sound of a man trying not to sob. He tightened his grip on him.

“We’ll be on the gryphon soon,” he murmured. “No one will hear you.”

Khadgar shuddered against him, then twisted out of his grasp. Anduin stumbled, panic overtaking him. Had that being – _Alodi, she’d said_ – been wrong?

But no. Khadgar, standing straight, had turned to face the tower. His voice became deep, and a crackle of energy charged the air. A moment later there was a deafening boom, and a wall of electric blue light once again covered Karazhan.

Khadgar swayed. Before Anduin could start toward him, he turned, though, and staggered toward the gryphon, which danced in place for a moment before bowing to let the familiar rider mount. Khadgar bent over the pommel of the saddle, almost with his face buried in the feathers, turned away from Anduin.

Anduin’s chest was tight. Swallowing back his words of comfort, he mounted behind the mage, and not trusting him to keep his seat, grabbed him around his belly, pulling him tight against his chest. He gripped the reigns in his other hand, and the gryphon launched itself into the sky and then sped on a course toward Stormwind.

#

Khadgar spent the ride in terrible silence, allowing Lothar’s touch only in as much as it kept him from tumbling to the ground passing by swiftly below. How the man could bear to touch him after what he’d seen was a question he chose not to dwell on.

He had no recollection of his actions in the past hours, but he’d seen enough. Three human lives had been lost, their souls consumed, because he was weak. Too weak to be a guardian. More corruptible than he’d ever imagined. It was an error in his own self-judgment that he could never recover from. He only thanked whatever Light still shone on him that he had not done anything to harm Lothar, other than dealing him another blow of betrayal.

When they landed, Khadgar’s first instinct was to draw up a portal without speaking, but his whole being rebelled at the thought. How could he trust himself, if his aptitude with the arcane was what had drawn the demon to him? He had done too much damage in his arrogance as it was. He forced himself to speak, hating how his voice cracked. “I request an audience with the Queen.”

“Of course you have it,” Lothar said in his ear, his voice holding a worried note that seemed out of place to him. Did the man think he would attack his sister now?

Khadgar slid from the gryphon, Lothar leaping off beside him with a huff and a groan. The mage’s knees almost buckled, but he took a quick step back when Lothar reached out a hand to steady him.

“I would take you to my home or an inn to give you time to recover yourself,” Lothar said, his voice quiet.

He forced himself to meet the soldier’s clear gaze. There were lines of worry creasing his forehead.

“I am myself,” he said, sure of it for the first time since Medivh’s death. His chest felt light, no longer encumbered by that hard press of foreign power that he had at first mistaken for many things – his guilt, his grief, his fear, his yearning. It had cost three soldiers their lives, but their coming had saved him from a darker fate, and more than that, it had protected Azeroth itself. He would have left the shield up without Lothar’s interference, and Alodi would never have gained entrance to the tower in time to stop him.

“That is not how I meant it,” Lothar said, his voice sharp. “I do not think you have rested properly in months. Look at you.”

The warrior’s face was still covered in orc blood, green stripes stretching over one cheek, a handprint on his neck that did nothing to cover the bruising there. Behind the grime, his expression held disbelief and exasperation.

Khadgar kept his gaze steady.

A muscle in Lothar’s jaw twitched. Finally, he nodded. “Come, then. She will want to see us both.”

He gripped Khadgar’s elbow, as if afraid he would leave. They made their way out of the gryphon stables and into the streets, drawing open stares from Stormwind’s citizens.

Taria had to be summoned from her quarters to the throne room, but moments later she came running into the hall.

“Anduin! You’ve returned! And Khadgar, you as-” her words, at first excited and relieved, cut off abruptly as her expression fell into one of horror. “What happened to you both? Anduin, your troops?”

Lothar knelt, and gave his report of his travels, up until his arrival at Karazhan. Khadgar looked straight ahead throughout it, letting the words wash over him. It sounded like Lothar had been chasing after petty tasks, and he wondered what the Lion of Azeroth was thinking, doing work that was best left to green trainees.

Perhaps, he thought, his assessment of the other man had been wrong. He had seemed to be recovering after the battle and the ceremony upon their return. He hadn’t seen him drink himself into a stupor once in the weeks that followed, and nor had he sought out Khadgar’s company. His own decision to leave for Karazhan had largely been due to that fact. In a time of quiet recovery, the commander was busy with the work of training new forces, and there hadn’t seemed to be a spot for Khadgar to fill.

He thanked the Light for that now. If he had remained in Stormwind, the demon would have had access to an unlimited supply of souls, and free range of the city. He had no doubt the Queen would have been killed by his own hand by now.

A sharp elbow jabbed his ribs. Khadgar startled out of his thoughts, and realized that Taria, and then Lothar, had been repeating his name for several moments.

Steeling himself, he knelt, head bent to the floor. He felt Lothar try to tug him up, but he shrugged him off.

“Your majesty,” he said, his voice dry.

“Whatever you’re about to say, think carefully,” Lothar warned. “You should let me tell this story. Do you even remember what happened?”

“I knew something was wrong,” Taria murmured. “What is it? What transpired at Karazhan?”

“I was weak,” he said harshly, and the words opened the cage around his heart. He gasped, glad that as long as he was bent, they would not see his tears. He didn’t deserve to cry. “I failed where you thought I had succeeded. The victory was a lie. The demon only found a new host.”

Over Taria’s horrified gasp, he recounted what he could, forcing his voice to be even.

Lothar for his part allowed him that penance, at least, interjecting only when he had to, where his memory failed him.

“The seal remains around Karazhan,” he finished. “A new guardian will have to be found.”

“And where do you think you’re going?” Lothar’s voice was steely.

“Guards,” Taria said.

“No, Taria,” Khadgar heard Lothar actually take a step forward. “Sister. He-“

“Take the guardian to a room. Make sure he is comfortable. Make sure he rests.”

“Queen Taria,” Khadgar raised himself. Her eyes, when she met his, were wet and glistening. “You must punish me. I failed my duties. I failed Azeroth. I killed your men-“

“You did nothing,” Lothar hissed.

“I would speak with my brother privately,” Taria said.

Two guards stepped forward, and gripped Khadgar’s elbows, forcing him to stand.

“I deserve death!” He cried out.

“Please, watch him,” Taria said gently, “Make sure he comes to no harm.”

He was escorted away.

#

“I’m sorry,” Anduin apologized, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “He only requested an audience. I had no idea what his request would be.”

“He had no awareness of his actions?” Taria questioned.

“None. He appeared to be himself. Then the next moment, all hell broke loose. The demon mocked him, saying that it was ‘fun’ for him to watch Khadgar realize what he’d done using his body. He had no stomach for it, when he was aware, Taria.”

“And this being, Alodi?”

“I do not trust her, but I also feel she did not deceive us. She had more than one opportunity to kill us. The mage recognized her when he woke. He said that she had been the one to send him to Medivh, warning of his danger.”

Taria nodded. Her face was drawn. “He begged for death.”

“I heard,” Anduin said grimly.

“I wish to assign you to him,” Taria said softly. “We need him. Azeroth needs a guardian, and we cannot let any more friends fall to this Fel. The kingdom has been quiet. We can spare you for the time being.”

“What do you think I can do?” Anduin scoffed, but then the demon’s words came back to him.

 _“I can feel how much he liked you.”_ Then: _“But that is not the way he means it.”_

Khadgar had been adept at keeping his secrets to himself.

“Be a friend,” Taria said, brokenly.

He nodded.

#

“Khadgar?” He rapped insistently on the door. “Khadgar. Bookworm. Open up.”

No response.

He knocked harder. “I can open this for you.”

The door swung open, then. For a moment, Anduin hadn’t been sure that he was still inside. The room behind the mage was lavish, but the bed had obviously not been touched. He wished deeply that Khadgar had used it to sleep, but no, why would he? Why would he do anything to take care of himself? He wouldn’t feel deserving, after that speech he had given.

Khadgar’s large brown eyes were dull. “Has the Queen decided?”

Anduin tilted his head, a quirk to his lips. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

Anduin smiled at him. “Prisoners don’t get to ask questions.”

And damn him, Khadgar nodded, as if it what he had said made sense, rather than just taking it for the joke it was.

Keeping the smile on his face, Anduin gave the young mage a shove into the hallway, rolling his eyes at the guards as he did so. “You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused back at him.

They were nearing Stormwind’s gates when Khadgar stopped. “Where are we going?”

“For a drink,” Anduin replied easily.

Finally, those brown eyes showed some emotion, widening in protest. “Why would-“

“Either you’re a prisoner of Stormwind, and have to obey my commands, or you’re not. Make up your mind, spell-chucker.”

Khadgar blinked. “Your emotions are causing you to make poor decisions. I should be assigned a new guard.”

“Will you argue with your Queen now as well?”

“What?”

“I’ve been assigned as your personal guard, mage. Keep walking.”

Khadgar’s hands clenched and loosened again at his sides.

Anduin clapped a hand on his back, feeling the younger man jump with a twinge of satisfaction. There was the nervous young man he had found in the barracks. “That’s it. Onward.”

With an open, wary expression thrown his way, Khadgar began walking.

Anduin smiled to himself, and followed.

#

The Lion’s Pride Inn in Goldshire was bustling, so Anduin found them a booth in the corner, encouraging the two occupants making out there to find new seating. They didn’t seem to mind as they just headed upstairs anyway, giggling and oblivious to the newcomer’s dour mood.

Anduin spent three drinks watching Khadgar for some sign that he was in the present moment, but the drink he had ordered for him remained untouched, and the younger man had hunched into himself, hands folded protectively in his robes. Around them, laughter and babbling chatter flowed, broken only by the clanking of glasses and the occasional cheer. He was glad that for the moment his people could find good spirits, if only for a night.

He was clenching the fourth mug of beer in his fist when he couldn’t stand it any longer. “I have a question for you,” he said, lowly, ducking his head until he got into Khadgar’s line of vision. The mage looked away from him, but not before his eyes had widened and flinched.

“Why did the demon not try to harm me?” He nudged the mug of alcohol toward Khadgar, who ignored it.

Khadgar looked back at him, surprise written on his features. “It needed to win my favor. Killing a friend would have made me fight its influence.”

“And the guards? Your conscience is obviously not at ease with their deaths.”

“In time,” Khadgar wetted his lips, the hint of a pink tongue flashing and disappearing into the grim line of his mouth. “In time, I would have forgiven it that. It is much like an addiction, the Fel. It becomes a craving. I only felt a hint of that, at times, but demon-power is seductive. The need for it all-consuming, if given enough reign in your soul. Anything becomes acceptable in time.”

“But not my death,” Anduin said softly, with a swift look around the tavern to see who was listening.

Khadgar met his eyes, briefly. “No.”

“I thought,” Anduin said. “I thought that we meant little to you, when you left. For all that you had followed me around like a puppy.”

That elicited a hint of welcome irritation. “I did not follow you around like a puppy.”

“No?”

“No. I needed you. You were the only one who could stop Gul’dan.”

“And how did you know that, mage?”

Khadgar blinked. “You are the Lion of Azeroth.”

Anduin settled back in the booth, contemplatively spinning the mug in front of him. He nodded toward the mug in front of Khadgar, trying again. “Drink. It would do you good.”

“I’ve seen what it does to you,” Khadgar said lowly.

“Ah, and what’s that? It eases my pain. You could use some of that at the moment.”

Khadgar’s hand slammed down on the table. Amber liquid sloshed. More than one patron stopped and stared. Annoyed, Anduin waved them off, and it was a perk of his position that they turned away from them.

“I killed your men!” Khadgar growled.

“Not so loudly, spell-chucker,” Anduin said. “Do not spread those lies here.”

“It’s not a lie!”

“Khadgar.” Anduin placed a hand on his arm. “Please. Do you blame Medivh?”

“Yes!”

Anduin blinked at him. Khadgar’s eyes flashed in pent-up anger, which he knew was only directed inwards.

“He should have been stronger.”

“And you should have, too,” Anduin suggested.

“Yes, Lothar. I should have.” Khadgar freed his hand from his sleeve to draw it over his face.

“You fought for months on your own,” Anduin pointed out. “Alone.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Don’t do it again,” Anduin said easily, and took a swig of his drink.

Khadgar’s hand had begun to shake again. He brought it down to lift his mug experimentally. He hesitated, briefly, before bringing it to his lips and trying to swallow the whole thing in one go. He began coughing violently, slamming the mug back down on the table.

Anduin patted his back. “Easy.”

When Khadgar looked at him again, there were tears in his eyes.

Anduin thought it kinder to allow him to pretend it was from the drink.

“Anduin.”

“What?” Khadgar asked, blinking quickly. His efforts were futile, his cheeks were wet anyway.

“That’s my name, mage. To my friends, at least.”

Khadgar started to get up. Anduin pulled him back down. “We’re not done here.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you are not.” He waved over a bartender and ordered another round. “One more beer. Then we can go, if you wish.”

Anduin smiled at the glare sent his way.

There was the Khadgar he knew.

#

Khadgar trudged along beside Lothar – _Anduin,_ he corrected himself with a weird feeling in his gut – and kept his eyes on the dark trees that lined the road. He had no fear of the cutpurses that lived there, but looking at Anduin would only invite conversation.

When they got back to the city, they went down several side streets and alleys before he thought to question where they were going, and only got a smug, sideways look in return.

Finally Anduin turned to a row home, nestled around the bend in Old Town, and opened the front door with a key. He opened it with a flourish and a mocking bow. “Welcome,” and smiled at him, kindly. “Come inside. We’ll set up a pallet for you.”

“This is your home,” Khadgar said, on the doorstep. Inside, he could see a cozy living space furnished with throws and pillows, and decorations he knew were not Anduin’s work. Remnants of his dead wife, he guessed, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “You invite me into your home after what I’ve-”

“Stop!” Anduin yelled harshly, hitting a wall. Then, in a gentler tone, “Khadgar. Please. Stop.”

Khadgar’s heart hammered in his chest, but he stepped inside.

Anduin nodded at him as he closed the door slowly behind him and disappeared into an inner room. After a moment he returned with an armful of bedding, heading for the stairs to the left. “There is plumbing in the back if you need to make use of it. You will see the pump if you wish to bathe.”

“You should go first,” Khadgar said. The things he needed to clean were not on the outside of his body.

“Very well,” Anduin said, and paused. “What am I thinking,” he muttered almost to himself. Then, louder, “You can have Callan’s room. I just need to freshen the sheets.” He disappeared upstairs.

Khadgar would have protested, but the implications of that – that Anduin hadn’t cleaned his son’s room out since his death a better part of a year later – stopped him from doing so. It would be good for Anduin to do this for him.

He looked around the house in his absence. There were pots hanging from the ceiling, and herbs, beyond an open counter that divided the dining area from the kitchen. There was seating around a fireplace at the base of the stairs. The smell of woodsmoke and spice permeated the air, and it gave Khadgar an intense sensation of _home_ and _family._

But Anduin Lothar had no family left. This cozy space would seem empty without anyone to share it with. He tried to imagine coming back to his own home and finding no one there, not his brothers, not his sisters, not his parents. He had known that sense of belonging for such a short time, but even he could see the hollowness at the loss of it.

An intense wave of sorrow and guilt blindsided him. Gasping, he crashed to the floor, his chest wracking with sobs.

There was a crash and a curse from upstairs, then the thud of feet hastily descending the stairs. They didn’t pause in their way to him. Anduin bent and pulled Khadgar to his chest, murmuring words of comfort, rocking them both on the balls of his bare feet. He had removed his armor, but he still smelled of orc blood, sweat, and alcohol. Khadgar didn’t care. He dug his fingers into the other man’s back, feeling the muscles contract, and couldn’t even be embarrassed that he was soaking his tunic through.

Anduin gripped him, solid and warm, and held him with one hand buried in the hair at the back of his head. “Good,” he whispered. “Good man.”

“What happened to ‘boy’?” He choked out finally, desperately attempting to break the intimacy between them.

But all Anduin said was, “No, not boy. Don’t take my teasing to heart, spell-chucker.” He sat back on his heels, and observed Khadgar’s face with an intense, unreadable look as the mage tried to wipe the wetness from his own skin. After a moment, he sat down on the floor, scooting up to the counter until his back was against it, his side pressed against Khadgar’s. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then put an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in further to his body.

Crying had seemed to release the tension from him, and for the first time that day, Khadgar allowed exhaustion to overtake him. He knew he should let Anduin find his own bed, and that it was selfish of him, but when his eyes drifted shut, he didn’t attempt to force them open.

#

Khadgar woke to a stream of sunlight on his face. He was encased in soft blankets on top of a bed he didn’t remember climbing into. There was a desk beneath the window facing him, and a bookshelf to one side, filled with tome after tome on the art of war, trophies in between the rows serving as makeshift bookends.

 _Callan’s room,_ he recalled, and stifled his embarrassment at the knowledge that he was carried there, and stripped to his underclothes while he slept.

He pushed himself up and climbed onto the hardwood floor. His boots were lined up neatly by the bed and his clothes were folded over the chair by the desk. It had the order of a soldier’s hand to it. In his private chambers, Khadgar was much messier, having had more than one morning spent scrambling to find one piece of clothing or another that he’d strewn across the room while he got ready for bed. He reached for them, before noticing the desk itself had a stack of clothes arranged neatly on it, obviously for his use. They were too big to be Callan’s, and Khadgar guessed they were Anduin’s own. He pulled them on slowly, and found they were only slightly too large for him.

He pushed the left sleeve up on his arm and looked down at the mark of the Kirin Tor on his skin. It lay dormant and dark. He had been accepted back into their fold, reinstated into the position of guardian-in-training, although that was not really the truth of it. With Medivh dead, he was the guardian, prepared or not.

He ran a thumb over the markings.

Whether or not he deserved to be.

His responsibilities eclipsed the needs of his own conscience. A night’s rest brought that much back into perspective.

Khadgar padded into the hallway. A sudden, loud snore from the room at the end of the hall made him trip. He was barely able to stop himself from tumbling down the stairs. Smiling in fond amusement, he went down and made use of the plumbing facilities, then foraged in the kitchen until he found meat, eggs, milk, and bread. Living on his own had at least taught him to care for himself. He set the eggs and bacon to frying and began portioning out the rest for two.

It wasn’t too long before Anduin appeared, belting the waist of a blue tunic. It was the clothing of a civilian, not a soldier, even though the Alliance Lion’s crest was still embroidered on one shoulder in gold thread.

“You’re cooking,” he stated, sounding doubtful and amused.

“As a thank-you,” Khadgar said quickly.

“You’re thanking me by feeding me my own food,” Anduin rejoined dryly.

Khadgar blushed, but finished his work, pushing a plate toward Anduin.

The man was watching him carefully, and though his expression was filled with humor, his eyes were serious. He took a bite, and to Khadgar’s irritation, seemed surprised. “So you can cook.”

“I don’t do it a lot, but it’s not like I have much else to distract me,” Khadgar said. “I left all the books at Karazhan. All of my research.”

“You’re not going back there-” Anduin started, his voice steely.

“No, no,” Khadgar said hastily. “Not yet.” He looked down at his own food. “Not for a while.”

“Sit with me,” Anduin said, with a sideways glance. He himself sat at the dining table with his back to the wall, facing the door. Khadgar chose the seat next to the fireplace, and studiously examined what he was eating, avoiding the heat of Anduin’s eyes as they bore into him. They finished their meal silently, and only then did Anduin clear his throat. “We’re going fishing today,” he announced.

“What?” Khadgar met his eyes.

Anduin’s lips curved up, tilting his head in challenge. “I find it relaxing, bookworm.” He took Khadgar’s plate from his hands and washed the dishes. “You can find the poles and bait in the shed out back.”

He couldn’t find any reason to protest. Bemused, he gathered their supplies.

#

When they got to Stormwind Lake, Khadgar didn’t have any luck hiding his inexperience with a fishing rod. Anduin was openly laughing at him, untangling the twine and tying his hook for him.

“How did you eat, when you were hiding from the Kirin Tor, bookworm?” He chortled.

“I used magic,” Khadgar explained, flushing.

That earned him a careful look that was swiftly and purposefully redirected back toward his hands. “Oh? Why don’t you show me how you catch fish with magic, then?”

“I’d rather not,” Khadgar said plainly.

The water on the lake glinted with sunlight, and there were quiet, sporadic splashes as fish jumped out of the water.

Anduin handed him the prepared pole. “Later then,” he said easily. “I’ll show you how to cast.” He stepped behind him, taking Khadgar’s hand in his own, his chest pressed against his back. Khadgar couldn’t help the way his breathing quickened.

“Here,” Anduin said lowly, “Like this.” He showed him, guiding his movements until he got it right. He stepped back and watched Khadgar do it on his own before he turned for his own gear, seemingly satisfied.

Khadgar relished the feeling of the sun on his skin, after so much time spent in the wasteland around Karazhan. Before long, the bucket they’d brought with them began to fill with fish. Khadgar allowed himself to relax in the easy monotony, listening to the water lapping against the shore.

#

A week passed in much the same easy way as the first few days had after the tragedy at Karazhan. Khadgar’s nerves calmed under Anduin’s careful watch, with his easy humor and teasing companionship. The days were spent walking around Stormwind, going on menial errands for supplies or to repair Anduin’s armor, and helping the citizens where they could with their small requests and needs. It helped Khadgar, he realized one morning with a shock, to see the ebb and flow of daily life, and to understand the people he was charged with protecting. It gave him a sense of renewed purpose and meaning, and he wondered if Anduin had sensed that would happen. Or maybe it was just that he understood through his own experience. Khadgar never asked.

On the afternoon of the eighth day, Anduin left to see Taria at the castle. Khadgar waited for him to return in the house, but long after nightfall there was still no sign of him. He tried to tamp down his worry, knowing that for the commander this week’s reprieve spent watching him was an excess.

It didn’t help. He’d gotten used to their routine, in such a short amount of time. It was alarming on some level, the attachment, but after what had happened to him he had made a promise to himself to heed more carefully Medivh’s advice. He could no longer isolate himself. Not when there was a risk that he would need others to stop him if he fell again to darker powers.

After another hour with no sign of Anduin, he took to pacing the rooms, his tunic swinging around his knees with every sharp turn he took.

He knew if he only would use his magic, he could port to him in a heartbeat.

The thought turned his throat to ice.

He would likely only be porting into the barracks, or worse, into a private meeting between siblings at the castle, he told himself. Using the arcane to find Anduin would be an overreaction.

Finally he threw himself into a chair by the fireplace. He wished desperately he at least had a book to pore through. He would have access to such books, in fact, if he had been willing to show his face again so soon at the castle. He knew that Queen Taria held no ill will in her heart toward him. He knew he had been pardoned for sins that were only partly his own. It didn’t help that he felt unworthy to be in her presence, at least for the time being. It would be a long time before he forgave himself.

He made a movement with his hands toward the fireplace, unthinking. One blue spark escaped his fingers and flickered out. With a rapidly beating heart he stood and found the matches, his hand shaking as he lit the fire.

Retreating to the chair, he let himself fall into slumber.

#

Khadgar woke in the dead of the night to the sound of the door slamming, followed by several thuds and a stream of swift cursing. The fire had burned down to embers. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he lurched to his feet to see Anduin making a clumsy path through the room.

“Anduin?” He tried.

That only elicited more profanities as the warrior startled. “What are you doing awake, bookworm? You don’t have any work to do here.”

The words were slightly slurred. Khadgar winced. “You’re drunk.”

In the dim light, he saw Anduin’s mouth twist upwards to one side. “You sound surprised.”

“Has something happened?” Khadgar froze. “Have I done something?”

Anduin’s face was laid bare for a moment. A flash of pain crossed his features. It was erased a moment later under a flood of irritation. “No. Go to bed, spell-chucker. I want to do the same.”

Khadgar blocked his path. Anduin gave him an amused, assessing look. “You’ll have to use your magic to stop me.”

He couldn’t hide his flinch. Anduin frowned at him. “So I was right,” he muttered.

Khadgar licked his lips. “Right about what?”

“You’re afraid of yourself,” Anduin murmured.

He clenched his teeth. “Don’t I have reason to be?”

Anduin merely grunted at him and pushed past him, but instead of going upstairs, he threw himself in the armchair Khadgar had been occupying moments before. He gestured with a floppy hand to the second chair in obvious invitation. “Light the fire,” he commanded.

“Yes, sire,” Khadgar said sarcastically, but was too worried to protest further. Anduin watched him with narrowed eyes as he went for the matches, and kicked them suddenly out of his hand. They landed in the ashes.

“Not with those!” He barked.

Khadgar straightened, meeting his eyes squarely. “No.”

Behind him, the matches erupted in flames, catching on the embers, taking away his choice.

Anduin sighed, loudly, and dragged a hand across his face. “You’re impossible,” he said under his breath.

“You asked me to be here,” Khadgar pointed out, unperturbed. He’d been called worse. He took the other seat, and leaned back to watch Anduin’s face in the firelight. It looked weary.

“Is it Callan that brought this on?” He asked carefully.

Anduin shot him a sneer. “Among other things.”

“And those other things are…?”

“I’m going to bed,” Anduin announced, standing. Unfortunately for him, he tripped, landing back in his seat. He appeared to give up, then, slouching backwards. He raked a quick glance over Khadgar’s face. “Or maybe it is you. No. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then what?”

“Your presence here. It…it’s filled this place.” Anduin looked away from him.

“Then I should leave,” Khadgar said, his heart heavy.

“You misunderstand.”

Khadgar stared at him for a long moment, realization dawning on him. It was having someone else in such an empty place. It was the mimicry of family, he was sure of it. He turned his gaze to the room. “You can feel the love that was here,” he began gently. “Your son, your wife, you can see them still. It’s in the shoes by the door, that picture of Stormwind Harbor above the mantle. The mug with the chip on it in your cupboard.”

Anduin made a choked, sobbing noise. His face was unreadable, though, and his eyes remained dry.

“I heard what you said, all those months ago, as we fought Medivh,” Khadgar continued.

“And what was that?” Anduin rasped out.

“That you had nothing left to live for,” Khadgar said. He drank in Anduin’s features, bathed in warm light. His shocked eyes met Khadgar’s.

Anduin cleared his throat. “A taunt, nothing more.”

“You’re not the only one who can spot a lie,” Khadgar said.

They fell into a silence that was broken only by the crackling of the fire.

“You’re the Reagent King of Stormwind,” Khadgar said eventually. “I never thought to ask why you’re here, and not at the castle, in your quarters. It’s because of me, isn’t it. I’ve brought this place back to you because you were assigned as my guard.”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate being at the castle, as fearful as you are of yourself,” Anduin agreed.

He hadn’t thought he had been so obvious.

“The demon said something to me,” Anduin said abruptly, causing Khadgar to jump. He opened his mouth in alarm, but Anduin held up a finger. “Do you remember any of it, when he possessed you?”

“Nothing but the moments as he took me over,” Khadgar admitted.

It was good he could talk about it now without the back of his throat going sour.

Anduin nodded. “It was a secret of yours,” he mentioned. “Or so I thought. It seemed honest when it spoke, though, and isn’t that strange.”

Khadgar’s mouth had gone dry. “Perhaps you have the right idea suggesting that we sleep.” He got to his feet stiffly. He didn’t hold many secrets, not anymore, not from Anduin.

Anduin merely observed him. “I’ve been watching you for some sign of it.”

“You could just ask me,” Khadgar whispered. “Honesty is the least of what I owe you now.”

“This shouldn’t be like that,” was all that Anduin said. He slumped sideways, kicking off his boots over the arm of his chair.

“Don’t you want your bed?” Khadgar asked him.

“Here will be fine tonight,” Anduin said, “My bed is empty.”

Khadgar fled upstairs.

#

The next morning, Anduin was up before Khadgar was, with a wry explanation that he had to puke and couldn’t fall back asleep afterwards.

Khadgar had brought his cloak downstairs with him this time, as well as donned his own, clean clothes and boots. He nodded his thanks as Anduin handed him his plate of bread and cheese and glass of milk, taking his usual place at the table. Anduin joined him, his eyes on his own food.

“Going somewhere?” He asked after a few bites.

“I thought it was time,” Khadgar said. “So you wouldn’t have to babysit me here any longer.”

“You could discuss this with me first,” Anduin said.

“I am,” Khadgar said, surprised.

Anduin met his eyes. “And where will you go?” There was challenge in his tone.

“Not Karazhan,” Khadgar assured him quickly. “Not yet.”

Anduin scraped his chair back suddenly, so fast that it almost tipped over. He stood only to lean over the table, looming into Khadgar’s personal space. “What are you thinking?” He hissed. “What goes on in that magic-befuddled brain of yours? Because I’ve been trying for months now to figure it out.”

“You could just ask,” Khadgar pointed out, snappily, to cover his anxiety. He shot to his feet as Anduin rounded the table, and took a step back when he got too near. Anduin took another deliberate step forward, and another, until Khadgar’s back hit the wall. He could only stare up at the other man, wondering where this was going.

“I’ve been going about this all wrong,” Anduin groaned suddenly. “You’re too patient.”

“I don’t think I’ve been accused of that before,” Khadgar attempted a small grin.

Anduin put a hand behind his head, palm flat on the wall. He leaned forward until he could smell his breath. The man must have been chewing mint, there was no trace of the mentioned vomit on the air.

Anduin tilted his chin in an amused, knowing nod.

“I don’t hate having you here, mage,” he said, “I don’t hate being here. Not anymore.”

“The demon told you my feelings,” Khadgar whispered.

“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me your feelings,” Anduin corrected.

“Why would I?” Khadgar asked, confused.

Anduin made a low, frustrated noise in his throat. “Has it occurred to you to take my own possible feelings into consideration?”

Khadgar licked his lips. “I thought I have been,” he said, honestly.

“Right. Of course you would have.” Anduin gave him a disbelieving look, and then shook his head. He stepped back, allowing Khadgar room. The mage stayed pressed again the wall, his chest heaving.

Anduin looked him up and down assessingly. “Come with me today to see my sister. To see Queen Taria.”

That, he could do. “All right.”

Anduin snorted, and went back to his breakfast.

#

“Anduin! Khadgar.” Taria’s smile lit up the room like the sun. “It is wonderful to see you both looking well again.” She came forward and clasped their hands in delight.

“Both?” Anduin mouthed to himself.

She turned to Khadgar. “I told my brother last night that I wanted to see you. I have something to show you.”

She raised her hand, and the two guards in the room stood at ease.

Anduin smiled at Khadgar’s confused expression as Taria led them to the wing that led to the library. The mage was looking steadfastly ahead, ignoring his pointed looks. He tripped him, once, just to force him to look at him. Khadgar did, with a glare. He grinned back.

Khadgar just looked even more befuddled.

They walked through the library to a door concealed between the shelves in one corner.

“Go on,” Taria said. “Open it.”

Khadgar glanced curiously at them, and stepped forward, his hand closing around the door handle. Anduin could see him visibly brace himself when he pushed it open and entered.

Taria and Anduin filed in behind him.

Suddenly, Khadgar’s face perked up. He gave them an amazed look, then took off around the room, fingering books and picking up the artifacts scattered here and there across various surfaces before going to stand by the desk in the center. A beam of light shone through a high window, illuminating dust motes before caressing the wooden surface.

“This was Medivh’s study here at the castle,” Taria commented. “It is now yours.”

Khadgar whirled about again, reminding Anduin of nothing so much as his gryphon when she was enjoying a particularly tasty meal. He exchanged a fond look with his sister behind the mage’s back.

Her smile turned into a smirk as she watched him. He gave her a silent twitch of his head, narrowing his eyes. He suspected he knew what she was on about, because she had said as much the night before, but she didn’t have to do it now, again, in front of Khadgar himself.

 _Why did you ever think I was suggesting you take another wife?_ Were her exact words, referencing their conversation before he had left on patrol and then gone to Karazhan.

 _Why indeed,_ he thought, feeling his sister’s eyes still burning on him and ignoring her in favor of watching Khadgar flip through a musty tome, a delighted smile lightening his face.

“Medivh’s knowledge was transferred to me when he died,” Khadgar said slowly, his tone filled with emotion. Taria and Anduin shared a shocked glance. “But I want to learn as much as I can on my own. Perhaps I will see something that he did not.”

“You have all of Medivh’s knowledge in that brain of yours?” Anduin asked incredulously.

“It’s how the guardians work,” Khadgar said absently.

Taria touched Anduin’s elbow. “Come, Khadgar. We have more to show you.”

That made Khadgar look up, stuffing the book into his satchel. She handed him the key on a leather cord, and smiling, led the way to another wing of the castle.

They passed Anduin’s own room and stopped one door down. Taria had a gentle expression on her face, and for how she was treating Khadgar, Anduin wasn’t sure he had loved her more before ever in his life.

She handed him another key. “Go on. Go in.”

Khadgar looked like he knew what was happening and still doubted it. He opened the door and they entered the brightly lit room. It was lined with bookshelves, most empty, and had a desk and a comfortable, lavish bed. He stood in the middle of it all, obviously trying to keep his features from showing how overwhelmed he was. The way the struggle twisted his face was comical.

“The guardians of Azeroth have always had a home in Stormwind,” Taria explained. “And you are no exception, Khadgar.”

Khadgar lost the battle and turned to them with his mouth parted and his eyes wide. He glanced between them before coughing and composing himself. “Thank you.”

Her expression turned mischievous. “Anduin chose the location. His room is right next to yours.”

Khadgar’s intelligent eyes, when he met Anduin’s, were assessing, though his voice was teasing. It made Anduin’s heart soar to hear the humor return to the younger man. “Of course. What better place for the commander to make sure I keep out of trouble in his city.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Anduin said dryly.

The guardian’s face became serious as he turned to Taria, and bowed. “Thank you, Queen Taria. I hope I will be able to thank you through my service.”

Taria gave him a satisfied smile and drew him up. “I know you will.” She leaned forward, and Anduin made no secret of stretching to hear what she was saying. Her voice was too low, though, but from the way Khadgar’s eyes slid back to his, his features softening with surprise, he suspected he had no reason to worry.

He stepped back and nodded at her in amusement as she sent him a teasing glare for his efforts. “For his ears alone,” she chided, and glided out.

Anduin made a mocking bow toward the Guardian of Azeroth, and flourished a hand toward the door. “After you. I believe our lunch awaits.”

#

Khadgar had a familiar, energetic bounce back in his gait as they made their way back to Old Town.

“So the room suits you?” Anduin tried to keep his voice casual.

Khadgar laughed enigmatically, then tossed him an unreadable expression over his shoulder as they reached Anduin’s house. He trailed a hand over the doorway as Anduin unlocked it. It forced him to slide past the mage, their chests touching. It rose his spirits to see Khadgar so willing to tease him again, and more than that, to simply meet his eyes.

“Your home suits me, Anduin,” Khadgar said, and his voice was clear and unwavering. “Whether that home is at the castle, or here, or anywhere else.”

Anduin stumbled. He turned around. Khadgar was smiling easily at him, but there was an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. He lifted his face when he caught Anduin’s stare, his jaw jutting out stubbornly, as if to challenge him to dispute his words.

“You know how I feel about you,” Khadgar said. “It wasn’t my choice, but I can’t be sorry. I can’t change it. I’ve been grateful for the time spent by your side. I should ask, though.” Though his expression was unguarded, Anduin didn’t miss the way his soft fingers plucked at the hem of his cloak. Anduin relaxed, waiting for the question he knew was coming. “How do you feel about me?”

Anduin took two long strides forward, and Khadgar didn’t back away when he pressed their bodies together. He bent his head until their mouths were barely touching, and smiled at the quickening of Khadgar’s breath.

“That is the right question, spell-chucker,” he said, and brought their lips together.

#

Khadgar made a surprised noise, but parted his lips when the other man’s tongue asked for entrance. Anduin deepened the kiss, then broke away, bringing their foreheads gently together.

“Please tell me I wasn’t wrong,” Anduin asked in a hushed tone, searching his eyes. His expression relaxed a moment later.

Khadgar tried to find words, and failed. Instead he gripped the back of Anduin’s neck and pulled him in again for a second kiss, bringing the full length of their bodies together as he did so.

Anduin made a startled, pleased noise, and crowded him back against the wall. Khadgar made a noise of protest when he backed away again, but Anduin only took him by his hand. “We’re going upstairs,” he said definitively.

Khadgar hurried with him up the steps to the master bedroom. It was modestly large, and a beam of sunlight illuminated the floor. Anduin gave him a sudden push, and he stumbled forward to land on the bed. Anduin climbed over him and began kissing his neck. Khadgar pushed up with his hips, writhing under the attention. Anxiously, they began to tear off one another’s clothing, their mouths crashing together in between.

“You weren’t wrong,” Khadgar breathed out, belatedly.

“I want you to use your magic,” Anduin answered earnestly.

Khadgar flinched. “What?”

“You’re safe here, with me. You have not cast one spell since Karazhan.”

“You don’t know that-“

“I know it.” Anduin stroked his back. “Come on.”

“I don’t want to-”

“Just one. How about…” Anduin seemingly thought for a moment. “A binding spell, just on my wrists. It can be fun, in bed, if your partner likes it.”

Khadgar blanched and tried to pull away from him. “No!”

“No because it doesn’t interest you?”

He closed his eyes, the image of Fel bindings wrapped around Anduin’s wrists blinding him. And the warrior knew what he was asking, he had no doubt of that.

“I don’t trust myself,” he admitted in a harsh whisper.

“I am not afraid of you, spell-chucker,” Anduin whispered softly, and pressed a kiss onto his chest

“You should have been!” Khadgar cried.

“And what, left you there? You would have been imprisoned alone with that thing inside of you had we not come.”

“And three of your people would still have their lives!”

“This is not usual bedroom talk,” Anduin said, the hint of a smile in his voice. “I know you don’t have any experience to base it off of, so I thought you could use the advice.”

Khadgar blinked at Anduin, whose mouth had twisted upward. He turned away again, and tried to get his panicked breathing under control. Anduin began rubbing soothing circles into his naked shoulders.

 _You’ll have to eventually,_ he thought to himself. _There will be no better time._

He took a deep breath and felt Anduin tense. He released the flow of words, shaping the magic to wrap around his wrists. He saw that Anduin’s eyes were widening in fear. Quickly, he began stuttering out the reverse-spell.

“No!” Anduin said quickly. “No. Wait. Khadgar, stop. It’s okay.” His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and with a shock, Khadgar realized the other man needed to face the memory of that day for his own reasons.

Slowly, Khadgar nodded.

“I trust you,” Anduin repeated, holding his gaze with his own.

Khadgar reached a hand out and touched his chest, trailing it down over the muscles of his stomach. When Anduin startled away from him, sucking in a breath, he looked up to find laughter in his eyes.

“I’m ticklish,” the man explained with a rueful grin.

It surprised a laugh out of him. He made his touch flatter, firmer, and continued down to grasp the growing hardness between Anduin’s legs. The warrior gasped, his eyes fluttering shut. He pumped him, entranced by the sound of his short, eager breaths and the sight of his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

Anduin opened his eyes, and his pupils were dilated with lust. He smiled encouragingly at him.

“I don’t know what to do,” Khadgar admitted quietly.

“You’re doing fine.” Anduin’s expression softened. Khadgar stared back. No one had before looked at him with such warmth, and it both terrified and enraptured him. “Look. Look at the casings on my wrists. This is your magic, Khadgar. The Fel is no longer in you.”

He took a steadying gulp of air, and nodded.

“Would you try using your mouth?” Anduin asked him.

Khadgar’s cock ached at the request. Bravely, he whispered out more words of power, and they snaked around Anduin’s ankles. He brought both bindings up, supporting Anduin until he was raised in the air above the bed, his toes trailing on the mattress.

“Is this okay?” Khadgar asked.

“Gods, yes,” Anduin’s voice was fierce. His stomach was rising and falling rapidly.

Smiling, Khadgar knelt in front of him, and took him into his mouth. Anduin groaned, and tried to thrust. Khadgar steadied him with his hands on his waist, and slid his length deep into his throat, pulling his tongue along the underside. Anduin grunted again, his frame trembling. Khadgar followed the lead of the aborted motions Anduin made, sliding his mouth over him again and again until sticky fluid spilled down his chin and Anduin went slack in his bindings.

Gently, he brought the other man down to the bed and dissolved the magic holding him. Anduin held out an arm, and Khadgar fell into his embrace, letting himself be pulled into the warmth of the other man’s chest.

“I told you there’s no evil left in you,” Anduin said, and kissed him, running his tongue over his lips until he was granted entrance. His hand reached between them and took Khadgar’s erection in his nimble, strong warrior’s grip, pumping him and swallowing the deep noises he made with every thrust. Finally, shaking he found his release, and lay trembling as Anduin swiped the roof of his mouth one last time and pulled away. He wiped his hand on the bedsheets, then brushed Khadgar’s hair away from his forehead.

Shakily, Khadgar nodded, and pressed his flushed face into Anduin’s shoulder.

“There’s been word of the gnolls organizing near Three Corners in the Redridge Mountains,” Anduin murmured to him, lazily stroking his shoulder. “I leave tomorrow. Come with me. We could use your magic, and it would be good training for you.”

Khadgar’s breath caught. He looked up to see Anduin looking down at him thoughtfully. “Of course,” he said. A wave of gratitude washed over him.

They settled in further, Anduin curling sideways briefly to pull the blankets up around them.

He had thought the other man had fallen asleep when his tired, sated voice broke the silence. "What did Taria say to you? Earlier, at the castle."

"Oh.” Khadgar smiled. “She said that I could use my new room for a study, and that no one would mind if I slept in yours."

Anduin kissed the top of his head. “Smart woman.”

Their breathing evened out, and soon they were asleep.

#

The next morning, Khadgar had hung his blue cloak on the peg by the door, beside Anduin’s. His boots had found their home as well, nestled next to memories by the bench in the entryway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently Ticklish!Anduin is a Thing in my fics, and I'm not really sure how that happened, but I'm not questioning it.
> 
> Also, I RP these boys, for anyone interested just message my tumblr - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/genuinelie (no "s" on the end of that one XD)


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